


This is All I Need

by lionheart (cruel_oath)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cooking Lessons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Meetings, Light BDSM, M/M, Nightmares, Rated for future chapters, fake relationship to real relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-08 05:26:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13451481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruel_oath/pseuds/lionheart
Summary: A collection of works forPromnis Week 2018.Day 1 - First meetingDay 2 - Fake relationship to real relationshipDay 3 - Ignis comforting Prompto from recurring nightmaresDay 4 - Ignis teaches Prompto how to cookDay 5 - Ignis gets captured, Prompto gets blindedDay 6 - Ignis finds out Prompto got pushed off the trainDay 7 - BDSM





	1. As Bright as the Sun

When Noctis mentioned making a new friend, Ignis was prepared for the worst.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want Noctis to have friends—quite the opposite, in fact. It would do Noctis a world of good to have more friends his age who went to school with him, rather than someone across Eos or people who were bound to serve him.

But, there was  _ protocol _ that Ignis had to adhere to. As much as he loathed it, he had to dig into this new friend’s background, plus those close to him, in order to ensure he wasn’t a threat to the Crown. It was the reason Noctis had so few friends in the first place, and though Ignis knew it was necessary, he did wish it wasn’t him who got in the way  _ every single time. _

Astrals, he hoped this time was different.

Ignis found little to be concerned about on the prince’s new friend, Prompto Argentum—he had no criminal record and passing grades, so at the very least, he wasn’t a terrible influence on  Noctis. 

What  _ really  _ interested Ignis was his social circle, or rather, lack thereof. His adoptive mother and father were airship technicians, which meant they were often away. He had no social media, save for an Instagram that was geared more towards his photography and artwork rather than simply goofing off like most teenagers his age. He showed no signs of having any friends other than Noctis.

It was… depressing, almost. Ignis hadn’t even met him, yet here he was, hoping that this would work out for the both of them.

Ignis waited by the car, scanning the sea of students for Noctis and his new friend. Normally, Noctis would walk straight to the car, ignoring any of the other students’ attempts at getting his attention. 

This time, Noctis didn’t seem to be in too big of a hurry. He walked at a casual pace, talking to one of his classmates—a blond boy that Ignis was sure he’s seen before.

“Good afternoon, Your Highness,” Ignis greeted when Noctis and the blond made it to the car. “I assume this is the new friend you mentioned?”

“Yeah,” Noctis said. He pushed the blond forward, earning a yelp in response. “Go on, he’s not gonna bite.”

“Prompto Argentum,” the blonde said. He offered his hand a beat too late, giving him an endearing, albeit awkward grin.

“Ignis Scientia,” Ignis said, accepting his hand and giving it a firm shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Prompto.”

The ride to Noctis’ apartment was full of excited chatter, as opposed to the usual political matters that Ignis would typically cover. Ignis was content with simply listening to the conversation, but Prompto eventually roped him into it. For once, the ride to Noctis’ apartment didn’t seem so long.

At Ignis’ insistence, the first hour was spent studying. Noctis spent the better part of the hour complaining loudly while they worked on their math homework, though Prompto didn’t seem to mind all that much. Afterwards, the two of them played on one of Noctis’ numerous game consoles while Ignis read through a report, making little notes in the margin for Noctis for later.

“Perhaps it’s time to start on dinner,” Ignis said. “Prompto, do you have any food allergies?”

“Nope,” Prompto responded, looking away from the game to smile at Ignis. “Anything’s good!”

“No vegetables,” Noctis added.

Ignis rolled his eyes, pulling his notebook out of his pocket. He flipped through it, eventually settling on a spicy dish that did a decent job of hiding vegetables.

“Hey, uh, Ignis?”

“Yes, Prompto?” He turned to find Prompto standing just outside the kitchen, as though he were afraid to step in without permission.

“I was wondering if you’d like a hand,” Prompto said, scratching the back of his head. “Noct, uh… he’s napping.”

“I certainly won’t refuse any help in the kitchen,” Ignis said, offering Prompto a kind smile. “Wash your hands and we’ll get started.”

The smile that spread across Prompto’s face made Ignis’ heart skip a beat.

They began to cook, with Ignis giving Prompto pointers here and there. He was pleased to see that he was competent in the kitchen, even if the circumstances were rather  _ depressing.  _ He tried not to think about that too much.

“What got you interested in cooking?” Prompto asked, leaning against the counter.

“When His Higness and I were younger,” Ignis began, closing the oven door, “shortly after his…  _ accident,  _ we went to Tenebrae so the Oracle could heal him. During our stay, he had a these pastries that could only be found in a particular café. When we returned, I wanted to recreate them, but I lacked the skills to do so at the time.”

“Did you ever make them?” Prompto asked.

“There have been many attempts. Unfortunately, I haven’t been successful.” Ignis picked up his can of Ebony from the kitchen island and took a sip, letting out a sigh. “His Highness doesn’t remember the taste too clearly, so it’s been a great deal of trial and error.”

“Well, all you can do is keep trying, right? You’ll get it eventually!”

Ignis looked up from his Ebony to find Prompto giving him a grin as bright as the sun. He let out a soft chuckle, returning the smile. “I suppose you’re right.”

Silence fell upon them for a few moments while Ignis took a moment to tidy up his workstation. Once he was finished, he glanced at the timer before turning his attention back to Prompto. “His Highness tells me you like to take pictures.”

Prompto looked down shyly. “Uh, yeah.”

“How long?”

“Since I was a kid,” Prompto said.

“Do you mind showing me your photos?”

Prompto blinked, making a surprised sound. “Not at all! Hold on a sec, my camera’s in my bag.”

Prompto rushed out of the kitchen to search through his bag, returning a few minutes later. He switched it on, approaching Ignis.

Ignis recognized most of them from Prompto’s Instagram—a majority of them were nature shots, particularly of cats and dogs from his neighborhood. The few shots that had people in them were focused more on the location itself, such as the cathedral downtown or the wall from a distance.

“These are lovely, Prompto,” Ignis said. “May I ask how you got into photography?”

“My uncle got me this camera for my tenth birthday,” Prompto said. “He said I needed a hobby and I guess he thought it’d be a great way for me to make friends, but, um… it didn’t really work out like that, y’know?”

Prompto’s smile grew strained. “I didn’t really have friends growing up. This probably sounds really stupid, but, um… Noct’s the first real friend I’ve had.”

Ignis fought to keep a somewhat neutral expression. “To tell the truth, Prompto, I believe you’re the first genuine friend he’s made in a very long time.”

Prompto raised his head, giving Ignis a look of disbelief. “Me? Really?”

“Yes,” Ignis said. “His Highness has had me nearly his entire life and Gladio for many years. It doesn’t make our friendship any less real, but we’d be foolish to deny that our respective duties have kept us at his side.

“You, on the other hand, had a choice, just like the people before you did. The difference between you and them, though, is that you don’t seem to see Noct as a prince—you see him as another human being, and I think he appreciates that more than you’ll ever know.”

“You really mean that, Ignis?”

Ignis nodded. “I’m not one to say things I don’t mean, Prompto.”

The smile Prompto gave Ignis was so bright, he thought he might go blind. He opened his mouth to say something else, only for Noctis to stumble into the kitchen.

“Is dinner ready yet?”

“It won’t be much longer, Highness,” Ignis said. “Prompto, would you kindly set the table?”

“You can count on me, Ignis!”

Ignis smiled, turning towards the oven. Maybe this friendship would work out, after all.


	2. We Should Be Lovers Instead

“I thank you for coming over on such short notice, Prompto,” Ignis says as he sets a cup of tea down in front of him. “I know it must’ve been quite inconvenient for you.”

“No worries,” Prompto says cheerfully, accepting the tea with a grateful smile. “I mean, you’ve done the same for me a billion times before.”

In spite of how utterly exhausted he looks, Ignis seems to find the energy to return the smile.

“I’m afraid this situation isn’t as simple as an overdue assignment, Prompto,” Ignis sighs, the smile disappearing. “This morning, I received a call from my mother—”

“Is she alright?” Prompto asks, eyes wide with concern.

“She is well” Ignis assures quickly, “This has nothing to do with death or illness or whatever sort of tragedy may come to mind, Prompto. But she did have some news that I found… displeasing.”

Prompto raises an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”

“It appears mother was worried about the fact that I’m not seeing anyone,” Ignis says, “and she arranged a meeting with a matchmaker.”

Prompto blinks. “A matchmaker? What, is she trying to arrange a marriage?”

“Yes… but I may have panicked and told her that I  _ was  _ seeing someone…”

“And..?”

“She wants to meet them.” Ignis lets out another sigh, giving Prompto a pleading look. “Prompto, I know this is a lot to ask of you, but will you  _ please  _ pretend to be my significant other? It’ll only be for a few days, long enough to convince my mother to keep her nose out of my business.”

It  _ is  _ a lot to ask—faking a relationship with one of your closest friends required a certain level of trust that Prompto was surprised to discover Ignis had in him. He could’ve just as easily asked Gladio, or Noctis, or Aranea, even.

But Ignis chose  _ him,  _ of all people.

“Can’t wait to meet your family,  _ babe,”  _ Prompto says.

Ignis lets out a relieved laugh, reaching over to give Prompto’s hand a squeeze. “You are a  _ lifesaver,  _ Prompto.”

“You’ve saved my ass more times than I can count. It’s the least I can do, y’know?”

The smile doesn’t leave Ignis’ face. “Then I’ll call mother and let her know we’ll be visiting next week.”

* * *

 

The ride to Tenebrae was spent getting their story straight. Ignis took the time to plan out every possible question his mother could’ve thrown their way, including follow-ups and anything remotely concerning the future. They ran through it until Prompto could lie with confidence.

Prompto’s thankful for Ignis’ careful planning—if he were to wing it, he’d give it away in a matter of minutes that this was a ruse.

“Relax, Prompto,” Ignis says as the airship lands. “We’re prepared for anything she throws our way.”

“Yeah,” Prompto sighs. “Yeah. We got this. We got this, Iggy.”

Ignis offers Prompto a sincere smile. “Showtime. Are you ready,  _ darling?” _

_ Darling.  _ Prompto manages to not let out the world’s most pitiful squeak, but he can’t stop the blush that spreads across his cheeks. It takes a moment for his mouth to work, and when it does, his voice cracks. “Ready as I’ll ever be,  _ babe.” _

They follow the crowd out of the airship. Prompto feels Ignis take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

* * *

 

Lady Scientia was  _ exactly  _ how Prompto imagined her to be.

She was a tall, elegant woman in her fifties with a gaze sharper than Ignis’ knives. She held her head high, looking down at Prompto as though he were the scum of Eos, though that could’ve been for any reason.

No  _ good _ reason, but hopefully not because he was a  _ guy. _

“He’s… shorter than I imagined.” She turns to face Ignis, though her expression doesn’t change. Prompto wonders if that’s just her face.

“It’s good to see you, too, mother.” Ignis smiles forcefully. “This is my partner, Prompto Argentum.”

“Calea Scientia,” she says. “A pleasure.”

Prompto tries not to think about how displeased she sounds. He smiles, hoping it doesn’t reveal just how nervous he is.

Calea leads them into the Scientia mansion. Dragon motifs are all over the place, from the intricate patterns carved into the columns to the paintings on the walls. Prompto wants to grab his camera when he sees the dragoon armor on display, but he reminds himself that he’s on a mission.

Calea is talking—Prompto tunes back in for a moment, finds that she’s talking about another relative entirely, then tunes back out. He makes odd little observations about the mansion, such as the lack of servants and the concerningly high number of weapons on display. It made Prompto a little nervous.

Well, more nervous than he already was.

Prompto’s daydreaming stops when they reach the sitting room. Calea sits in a dragon-print chair. Ignis guides him towards the matching sofa directly across from her, where they take a seat.

“Ignis,” Calea says, crossing her legs, “I admit, I’m quite surprised you didn’t tell me about your partner sooner.”

“I suppose it slipped my mind, mother.” Ignis reaches over to take Prompto’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “My work at the citadel never ends. I’m certain you have very little free time yourself, given your duties.”

“Yet I find the time to check in on my son from time to time, do I not?” 

A servant walks by to set down a tray of tea and sweets. Calea puts the conversation on hold while she serves the tea, only continuing after she dismisses the servant. “I’m certain that’s not the real reason, Ignis. If it has anything to do with Pronto—”

“Prompto,” Ignis corrects.

_ “—Prompto  _ being a man, then I assure you that matters very little to me. I merely wonder why you won’t talk to your dear old mother.”

“Perhaps if my  _ dear old mother  _ didn’t try to arrange a marriage with someone I’ve never met—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Prompto cuts in. “Calm down, okay? That’s all in the past now, right?”

There’s a beat of awkward silence before Calea speaks. “If I had known, Ignis, I would not have tried to arrange a marriage. I apologize.”

It sounds genuine, albeit awkward, as though she’s not one to admit to her mistakes. It seems to be enough to get Ignis to calm down, though, as he lets out a soft sigh and allows himself to relax.

They sit and talk for a bit, putting the conversation on hold for a few minutes to move to the dining room around dinner time. Thanks to Ignis’ foresight, everything goes smoothly, eventually leading away from their relationship to stories about Ignis’ childhood.

“The last time Ignis visited,” Calea said, a slight smile on her face, “he spent more time in the kitchen than he did with me. He bombarded dear old Pagina with questions about baking, then left the kitchen a mess!”

Prompto let out an undignified snort, covering his mouth as soon as it escaped. Ignis and Calea stared at him in silence, their expressions unreadable.

Prompto felt his face heat up in shame.  _ Did I really just do that in front of my boyfriend’s mother?  _

Then, another thought surfaced:  _ Did I seriously just call Ignis my boyfriend? _

Before Prompto could go into a full-blown panic attack, an embarrassingly loud snort pulled him from his thoughts. His attention snapped to the source—Calea Scientia, doubled over with noisy laughter.

Prompto turns to Ignis—he looks  _ stunned,  _ but not in a bad way.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen mother laugh so hard in my life,” Ignis says, his voice soft. The corners of his lips turn upwards enough for Prompto to notice.

Prompto tries not to focus on the warm feeling in his chest.

* * *

 

Prompto and Ignis are shown to their room later in the early evening. It’s big enough to fit half the rooms in his childhood home, making him feel smaller than he already felt in the Scientia mansion. There’s three large windows on one side of the room with a lovely view of the ocean, as well as a balcony that would be perfect for early morning photography sessions. The room is decorated elegantly, from the furniture to the wallpaper.

Oh, and there’s only one bed.

It makes sense—they told Calea that they’ve been together for almost a year, so of course she’d assume that they’d be okay with sharing a bed.

“Are you sure you’re alright with sharing?” Ignis asks. “I truly don’t mind taking the couch if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“It’s cool, dude,” Prompto says, hoping he sounds casual. “I’m a bit of a restless sleeper, though. If that’s gonna bother you, I can take the couch instead—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Ignis says a bit too quickly. He pauses, clearing his throat. “The bed is big enough for there to be plenty of space between us, should we need it. I doubt your restlessness will bother me.”

The bed  _ is  _ big—it’s almost twice the size of the bed in Noctis’ apartment. It’s comfortable, too, like he’s laying on a cloud.

In spite of how comfortable the bed is, sleep doesn’t come easily to Prompto. He’s in an unfamiliar space, sleeping in the same bed with someone he might have feelings for, and he’s almost certain this fake dating thing might have an effect on his friendship with Ignis.

After hours of thinking, sleep finally takes Prompto.

* * *

 

Prompto wakes up feeling warm and comfortable.

It’s enough to make him want to forgo his morning run and stay in bed for the first time since grade school. He shuts his eyes and lets himself relax, snuggling closer to the source of warmth. It takes him a few moments to realize what that source is.

Prompto’s eyes snap open when he feels Ignis pull him closer. The hold the adviser has on his waist tightens ever-so slightly, but Prompto doesn’t feel trapped. If anything, he feels…  _ safe.  _ He feels like nothing could hurt him while he’s pressed against his chest.

He should get up, or at the very least, move to the other side of the bed. Ignis might wake up  _ mortified  _ if he found himself holding Prompto like this. He’d hate for it to ruin his friendship with the adviser forever.

Then again, this was… nice. 

Prompto sighs, letting his eyes slide shut. Maybe just a few more minutes…

When he opens his eyes again, he’s alone.

Prompto doesn’t know why he’s so upset that Ignis isn’t in bed with him—they’re not  _ actually _ dating, so it shouldn’t matter.

_ You’re doing a favor for a friend, Prompto. Get a grip. _

“Good morning, Prompto.”

He looks up, finding Ignis stepping out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. He’s mostly dressed and his hair is still a little wet from the shower he just took. He looks so  _ perfect,  _ Prompto forgets to breathe.

“Prompto, are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Prompto lies. “All good.”

* * *

 

Three days later, they depart for Insomnia.

Predictably, things are awkward between them. Prompto and Ignis sit on opposite sides of the cabin they’re staying in, neither one of them making a move to break the silence. Prompto’s forced to dwell on his feelings, which doesn’t help the situation.

_ You’re in love with Ignis Scientia. Face it, Prompto, you’ve got it bad. _

He hates that he knows it’s the truth. Worse yet, it doesn’t feel like it’ll go away with time—it’s the kind of crush that sinks its claws into your heart and never lets up. It was going to eat him alive, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Prompto wanted to cry. He’s had feelings for people out of his league before, but this one was the  _ worst. _

_ Maybe it’s because you had a taste. Now you want more. _

Astrals, he wanted more.

Prompto’s pulled out of his thoughts by Ignis sitting down beside him. He looks every bit as anxious as Prompto feels.

“Could we talk?” Ignis asks.

Here it comes. Somehow, he’s found out about Prompto’s feelings and he’s going to take care of them now before it gets any worse.

“What’s up?” Prompto hopes his voice came out steady.

“What we did… it made me realize something.”

Prompto could feel his eyes watering.  _ Stop it, stop it, stop it! _

“I don’t really know when it started, but it appears that… I believe I might… hmm.” Ignis bites his lip. “I believe this made me realize that I like you… a great deal, in fact.”

Prompto blinks, remaining silent.  _ No fucking way. _

Apparently, he’s silent for too long, as Ignis starts to get up. “M-my apologies. Perhaps I should—”

Prompto grabs Ignis’ wrist before he can get too far away. Ignis turns, expecting him to say something. Prompto tries to speak, but the words just won’t come out.

He resorts to using his actions, instead, pulling Ignis in for a kiss. It doesn’t last long—just a quick peck to get his point across, but it seems to be enough to get Ignis to stay.

“Um,” Prompto says, “maybe when we get back, we could grab a coffee or something?”

Ignis smiles. “I’d love to, darling.”


	3. Source Code

_ “You’ve put up quite the fight, but in the grand scheme of things, it means nothing. It’s quite tragic, isn’t it?” _

_ Prompto doesn’t look at Ardyn. Even if he wanted to do so, he didn’t have the energy to lift his head. All he could do was stare blankly at the floor and wait for the chancellor to leave him alone again. _

_ Ardyn never leaves. He just continues to go on and on, pulling at every loose thread he sees until he finds the one that makes Prompto unravel. _

_ “Oh, how awful it must feel to be a complete and utter failure,” Ardyn says. He forces Prompto to look up at him, keeping a firm grip on his jaw. “And coming from daddy dearest, of all people.” _

_ “He’s not m’ father,” Prompto slurs. _

_ “Source code, then,” Ardyn corrects. “No matter what you call him, it doesn’t change anything. In fact, I’m sure your friends are doing just fine without you.” _

_ “They’ll come,” Prompto says. “I know they will.” _

_ At this point, though, he’s losing hope. Did they forget about him? Or did they realize that they’re better off without him there? _

_ “Oh, they’re coming,” Ardyn says, releasing his hold on Prompto. “As we speak, they should be wandering through the Keep in search of their precious crystal. Though, perhaps they need a little encouragement.” _

_ Prompto feels a shiver of fear run down his spine at Ardyn’s tone. He steels himself before raising his head, finding the chancellor staring him down. He had a syringe in his hand, a dark look in his eyes. _

_ “Perhaps you should provide a little entertainment for our guests, yes?” _

_ Ardyn came closer, raising the syringe. Prompto could make out some kind of black goop. _

_ “No,” Prompto says. “Please, not that.” _

_ “Come, now,” Ardyn grins, “don’t you want to make  _ **_someone_ ** _ proud? I promise, it won’t hurt too much.” _

Prompto’s eyes snap open. He sits up, gasping for air, but it feels like he’s trying to inhale water. He lets out a noise that  _ shatters  _ the silence in the room, immediately moving to cover his mouth.

_ Shut up, shut up, shut up! _

He thinks someone might be calling his name. It’s hard to tell when he’s sobbing so loudly, he can’t hear anything else. Prompto feels a pair of arms wrap around him loosely, pulling him towards a warm body.

“—the with me, dar-ng.”

Prompto focuses on the voice—it’s soft and soothing, bringing him back down to Eos. He breathes with it, latching onto its gentle encouragement like a child to their mother. As he grounds himself, he recognizes the voice.

“You’re safe, love,” Ignis murmurs, tucking Prompto’s head under his chin. “I have you.”

Prompto’s hands find Ignis’ sleep shirt, clutching the soft fabric until his knuckles turn white. He buries his face into Ignis’ shoulder and cries, the sounds echoing off the walls of their bedroom.

Eventually, he tires himself out. His voice gives out from his wailing and his eyes seem to run out of tears to shed. Ignis doesn’t let him go, though—he continues to hold Prompto close, rocking him gently.

Ignis lays down, pulling Prompto down with him. He guides Prompto’s head to his chest so he can hear his heart beating. He cards his fingers through soft blond locks, waiting until the last of Prompto’s whimpers fade away before speaking again.

“This mark,” Ignis says, gently lifting Prompto’s marked wrist to his lips, “does not define you. It does not change how I feel about you and it never will.”

Prompto feels Ignis’ hand take his, lacing their fingers. He gives it a weak squeeze with what little energy he has left, allowing his eyes to slide shut.

“Thank you, Ignis,” Prompto whispers.

Ignis says nothing in return—he simply presses his lips to Prompto’s hair, rubbing soothing circles into his back. He drifts off into a dreamless sleep, safe in his lover’s arms.


	4. Quiet Night In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The recipeh used in this fic can actually be found [here!](https://www.undergearedovercooked.com/fishermans-favorite-paella.html) It's also featured in the [Unofficial FFXV Community Cookbook.](https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B7FEbK4ZHcEcSS1sS2lnWGZLd0E/view)

It was rare for Ignis to have an evening off, especially on a Friday night. He’d normally be stuck in meetings, but Noctis had intercepted him on the way to the first of three, taking the paperwork out of his hands and informing him that his schedule for the evening had been cleared.

_ “Go have fun,”  _ Noctis had told him.  _ “Take Prompto on a date or something. Ramuh knows the last time the two of you had one.” _

Technically, the meetings  _ were  _ Noctis’ to attend, but it felt  _ odd  _ to have the routine he had been on since he was seventeen to change so suddenly. As strange as it felt, though, Ignis couldn’t deny the pride he felt when Noctis began to take his duties more seriously.

Ignis did end up taking Noctis’ advice, though—the last date he and Prompto had was nearly two months prior for Valentine’s Day. He had wanted to do something special, but Prompto suggested a quiet night in instead.

“Now,” Ignis says, “while all that cooks, we need to prepare the cod.” He guides Prompto away from the pot of rice.

Ignis walks Prompto through deboning the cod, trying not to laugh at the look of disgust that crosses his features as he discards the bones. They begin to chop the cod into cubes, Ignis pausing briefly to offer a few words of praise.

After the cod has been lightly salted, Prompto adds it to the rice, stirring it in. Ignis adds in a cup of the vegetable stock and clam juice mixture they prepared earlier before handing Prompto two star anise.

“Place these in the pot,” Ignis says, “but be sure to place them a good distance apart.”

Prompto nods, placing them on opposite sides of the pot. Ignis lets out a small sound of approval before covering the pot with the lid. “Now, let’s get our shrimp and scallops ready.”

Ignis grabs a small pan, setting it down on the stovetop. “First, we’re going to melt some butter on medium-high heat.”

Ignis watches Prompto work, his focus shifting from the food to his boyfriend’s face. Prompto’s tongue sticks out the slightest bit in concentration, like it does when he’s taking pictures or aiming his gun.

Astrals, how did he get so lucky?

“How do they look?”

“Hmm?” Ignis coughs, turning his attention back to the shrimp. “Ah, a touch burnt, but it shouldn’t change the flavor too much. Now, remove those from the pan and cover them with a paper towel.”

They repeat the process for the scallops, though Ignis pays closer attention to the pan, this time. Once the scallops are cooked, Prompto sets them alongside the shrimp before following Ignis to the sink to clean the mussels.

“You think we might be able to do this more often?” Prompto asks.

“Well,” Ignis says, “Noct implied that he’d be going to more meetings in the future, so perhaps we’ll be able to—”

“No,” Prompto cuts in, “I meant cooking together, Iggy.”

“Oh! Of course, darling.”

Prompto smiles, leaning in to kiss Ignis’ cheek. His focus shifts back to the mussels. “Okay, that’s the last of them. What’s next?”

“Now, we’ll add them into the pot, along with the shrimp and scallops.” Ignis lifts the lid off the pot, watching Prompto add the shrimp, scallops, and mussels in. He then pours the remaining vegetable stock and clam juice mixture before covering it again.

“We need to wait for the mussels to open up,” Ignis explains. “That should be enough time to set the table.”

Ignis is right—by the time the table’s set, the mussels have opened up. He removes the star anise before serving the paella, smiling proudly.

“Last, but not least,” Ignis says, handing Prompto a small bowl of parsley, “a dash of parley for presentation. Would you do the honors, love?”

Prompto garnishes the paella with the parsley, beaming with pride. When they sit down, Ignis finds Prompto looking at him expectantly, eyes wide with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

Ignis chuckles lightly, taking a bite of the paella. The flavor is only a little off, thanks to the burnt shrimp, but it’s easy to ignore. “It’s delicious, Prompto. A very good first attempt.”

When Ignis sees Prompto’s smile grow wider, he thinks he’ll look forward to their next lesson.


	5. Reversal

“Iggy!”

Ignis turns, barely managing to keep his balance when Prompto throws himself onto the adviser, wrapping his arms around him tightly. It takes him another moment to return the embrace, but he doesn’t allow himself to linger no matter how badly he wants to—not when they were running out of time.

“If the two of you are finished,” Ravus says, “We must be on our way.”

The chaos around Altissia has died down—Titan and Leviathan are nowhere in sight, meaning that Noctis must have received the Hydraean’s blessing. That, or he was defeated.

Ignis tries not to think about that too much.

The path to the altar held few obstacles, and those that stood in the way were easily dispatched with a quick slash of a dagger or a carefully-aimed gunshot. If the enemy was too big to kill quickly, their next course of action was to find another path.

“Do you think they’re okay?” Prompto asks as they approach the altar.

“We can only hope,” Ignis says, trying to ignore the growing uneasiness in his stomach.

Prompto starts to say something, but whatever he had to say was quickly forgotten in favor of running towards the altar. Ignis chases after him, slowing only when he sees Prompto stop in front of a dog.

“Pryna,” Prompto whispers. Ignis notices the slight quiver in his voice, but he dares not mention it. Instead, he rests his hand on the gunslinger’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Prompto reaches out to Pryna. Then, there’s a blinding light.

When it fades, Pryna is gone.

Prompto has gone ridgid. Ignis wants to ask, but his attention is drawn to another blinding light, this time at the altar.

_ Noct. _

“Prompto,” Ignis says, “We must go.”

“Yeah,” Prompto says, standing. “Yeah, right.”

They race to the altar, finding Ravus already up there. Ignis sees Noctis lying on the ground, motionless, and for a moment he thinks it’s already too late.

“Noct!” He picks up the pace, slowing when he realizes  _ where  _ the light was coming from.

_ Lady Lunafreya. _

“Six,” Prompto breathes. “Ignis, is she—”

“No,” Ravus whispers, voice dripping with disbelief. He staggers over to Lunafreya, his steps uneven.

“First, the Lucians stole from me my mother…”

Ravus draws his sword.

“And now, they make a sacrifice of my sister!”

Ignis moves without thinking, grabbing Ravus by the elbow and summoning a dagger. He blocks the sword, pushing down the rising fear for Noctis’ life in favor of calming the high commander.

“Ravus, stop!” Prompto grabs Ravus’ other arm, trying to subdue him.

“Let go of me,” Ravus spits, “Get out of my way!”

“What are you doing?” Ignis demands.

“What I should have done long ago: ridding us of this menace!”

Ravus shoves Prompto off of him and lunges again, only to be pushed back by Ignis. He forces the high commander as far away from Noctis as he can, summoning his other dagger.

The battle is heated. Though his mind is clouded with rage, Ravus proves to be a formidable opponent. Prompto’s pleas for them to stop fall on deaf ears. For a moment, Ignis is sure the battle will end in bloodshed.

Finally, it stops. Ignis buries his dagger into Ravus’ prosthetic arm and Prompto disarms the high commander with a skillfully-aimed gunshot. All falls silent among them as Ravus rises, panting hard.

“I always knew,” Ravus says as he staggers to the altar, “that you would face your fate without fear, fulfill your duty without regret. But... a part of me always hoped… that I might see you happy one day.”

Ignis watches as Ravus kneels down beside Lunafreya. He watches as he lifts her lifeless body into her arms, sobbing silently. Beside him, Prompto shifts, as though he wants to step forward and try to comfort the grieving man.

“Leave him be,” Ignis whispers.

Lunafreya disappears from Ravus’ arms in a flash of radiant light. She reappears before them as some sort of spectre for a brief moment before fading away once more.

“Oh, sister,” Ravus says, reaching out to her, “please don’t go… please don’t leave me.”

Ignis allows the man to grieve, turning his attention back to Noctis. Prompto is already at his side. Ignis joins him, kneeling down beside them.

“He’s alive,” Prompto says, sounding relieved. “I think he might’ve—”

“Iggy!”

Ignis turns, finding Gladio running towards them. He’s filled with relief— _ everyone’s safe everyone’s safe everyone’s safe _ —but it quickly turns to uneasiness when Gladio ignores Prompto’s concerned questions in favor of approaching Ravus.

“Well, well,” Gladio whispers, “What have we here?”

Within the blink of an eye, their weapons are drawn. Ravus is once again seething with rage, this time directed at the impostor.

“You,” Ravus spits, “Ardyn!”

“Oh, dear. Was I that transparent?”

Ardyn’s disguise disappears. Suddenly, they’re surrounded by Magitek troopers. Ignis feels a sharp pain in his spine before he’s forced down onto the ground by two MTs. From the corner of his eye, Ignis sees Prompto and Ravus, too, have fallen to the same fate.

Ardyn approaches him. “The game’s up, my boy.”

Ardyn raises his foot. Ignis braces himself when he brings his foot down, shutting his eyes just as he feels his glasses break. When he opens his eyes, Ardyn has a dagger.

“Come now,” Ardyn says, “Why not follow your liege’s lead and stop resisting?”

“Never,” Ignis spits.

“You risked life and limb to safeguard the ‘King of Kings,’ only to witness him fail so spectacularly. You must be so disappointed… I know I am.”

Ardyn stops in front of Prompto, brandishing his dagger. “And you… what have you done?”

Ignis can see Prompto shaking—whether from the cold or the fear, Ignis can’t tell, but he feels anger rising in his gut.

“I simply can’t see why they’d let someone like  _ you  _ be part of the king’s retinue.” Ardyn twirls the dagger in his hand, giving Prompto a slimy smile. “You, a  _ commoner  _ with such little experience fighting? It really is quite amusing.”

Ardyn steps away from Prompto. He kneels down beside Noctis.

“Oh, what good is a world that only ever lets you down?” Ardyn asks, “Why not end it all right here?”

“No! You can’t!” Ignis struggles against the Magitek troopers. More come over to hold him down. He screams Noctis’ name, struggling to free himself without success.

Just as Ardyn raises his dagger, Ravus throws his sword. He turns to the high commander. “My, you three certainly have become fast friends.”

Ardyn rises, dropping Noctis. Something slips from his grip, rolling toward Prompto. The chancellor seems to take no notice, as he approaches Ravus without even acknowledging it.

Before Ignis can react, Ravus is blasted back by a dark aura. He crashes into a set of stairs, the force of it shaking the altar.

“Permit me to make a suggestion,” Ardyn says, turning towards Ignis. “Rather than follow this flotsam and float away to a watery grave, why not come with me? What do you say?”

Ignis glares at Ardyn.  _ “Never.” _

“Pity,” Ardyn sighs. He walks towards Ignis, the dark aura returning. “I did hope to avoid needless bloodshed, but I suppose it’s unavoi—”

Prompto breaks free of the Magitek troopers holding him down, screaming with rage. Ardyn whirls around, barely managing to hide his surprise. “Oh? It seems the runt of the litter still has some fight left in him.”

For a brief moment, everything is still. Then, Ignis watches as Prompto dives for the object Noctis dropped—the Ring of the Lucii.

“I might not be as strong as Gladio,” Prompto spits, “or as smart as Ignis… but I swore I would protect Noct, even if it kills me.”

Before Ignis can say anything to stop him, Prompto puts on the ring without any hesitation. Ignis can only watch as the gunslinger screams in pain, a blue light surrounding him.

“Ah-ah-ahhh! I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Ardyn chides.

Ignis fights harder when he hears the  _ agony  _ in Prompto’s voice. He wants to scream at Prompto, tell him to take off the ring, but the words won’t come out.

“I may not be royalty,” Prompto grinds out, “but if Nyx could use the ring, then so can I!”

_ Take off the ring, take off the ring, please, darling _ —

“Kings of Lucis, lend me your strength!”

The light is so bright, Ignis has to shut his eyes. All he can hear is Prompto’s scream of agony. Then, for a brief moment, everything falls silent.

_ Prompto? _

_ Yeah, Iggy? _

_ Marry me after all this is over. _

Ignis dares to open his eyes. He expects to see Prompto lying on the ground, his corpse charred.

Instead, he finds Prompto standing there, surrounded by blue and purple light. Silver scars marr his face. He manages to catch a glimpse of his eyes before he warps away from the altar—stunning blue is replaced by menacing purple.

“Well,” Ardyn says, breaking the silence. He disappears in a flash of red, reappearing directly in front of Prompto. “They’ve shown you their favor after all.”

The Magitek troopers are distracted now. Ignis takes this as his opportunity to escape their grasp, plowing through them with renewed vigor. He needs to help Prompto—with or without the ring, he was still at a disadvantage.

But the MTs keep coming. It almost feels like they’re materializing out of thin air. Ignis tries desperately to cleave a path to Prompto, but he’s just not able to keep up.

He catches glimpses of the battle. Prompto shoots at every weak spot he can get to, but it seems to do  _ nothing. _ He throws whatever flasks he has, but all it seems to do is slow Ardyn down a little.

It’s over as quickly as it started. Ardyn disappears without a trace, calling off the handful of MTs that remain. Prompto staggers over to the altar, collapsing a few feet away from Noctis.

“Prompto!” Ignis is at his side immediately, kneeling down between Noctis and the gunslinger. He reaches out to remove the ring from Prompto’s finger, stowing it away.

“That was rather reckless,” Ravus says.

“Noct,” Prompto gasps, “Is he… is he alright?”

“More or less,” Ravus says, his tone softening just enough for it to be noticeable. “All thanks to you.”

Prompto tries to say something, but all that comes out is a round of body-wracking coughs. When the coughing subsides, he’s left groaning in agony.

“Hush, Prompto,” Ignis whispers, when Prompto tries again.

“Conserve your strength,” Ravus says, “You both have a calling to fulfill… as do I. May fortune favor us.” He turns to Noctis, keeping his face straight. “And you, as well, Noctis.”

Ignis can hear Gladio calling out to them, but he can’t bring himself to speak. As Ravus takes his leave, he presses a soft kiss to Prompto’s forehead.

“Rest, now,” Ignis whispers, pushing Prompto’s hair out of his face. “Everything will be alright.”

* * *

 

The first day is the most difficult.

Ignis throws himself into his work, doing what he can to help in the relief efforts. He does whatever task is handed to him, so long as it keeps him from thinking about his prince or his lover. He works until Gladio drags him away, though he is too exhausted to fight back.

Upon returning to the hotel, he checks on Noctis, hoping that he’d be awake so he could focus on other work. Alas, Noctis had yet to wake.

He stalls for as long as he can—he patches up clothes, makes dinner, and checks on Noctis several more times until Gladio forces him to take a shower. He takes his time, allowing himself to break down under the cover of running water until it grows cold.

The second day, Prompto wakes up panicking.

“Darling, it’s alright,” Ignis says, pulling Prompto to his chest. “You’re safe, dearest, you’re  _ safe.” _

“I can’t see, Iggy,” Prompto whimpers when he’s too tired to cry anymore.

Ignis had expected the damage to Prompto’s left eye to be severe, but he had hoped his right eye would remain intact. Alas, it seemed the Kings of Lucis had to take  _ something  _ from him.

Gladio tells Prompto that his sight might return. Ignis can’t bring himself to lie so blatantly, yet he doesn’t think he could handle Prompto’s reaction if he tells him the truth.

Then again, Prompto was probably  _ very _ aware of the truth.

The third day, Noctis wakes up.

Ignis is present to deliver the bad news—predictably, Noctis doesn’t take it well. He gives him space, deciding to spend most of the day looking after Prompto.

“My sight’s not gonna come back, is it?”

The question comes from out of the blue, after Ignis sets a tray of green curry soup down on the nightstand.

“Ignis?”

Ignis sighs, sitting down on the bed. He drapes an arm over Prompto’s shoulders and pulls him close, kissing his temple. “It’s… unlikely, I’m afraid. I’m so sorry, love.”

Prompto doesn’t cry—Ignis is sure it’s because he’s so emotionally and physically drained. He mumbles something that Ignis can’t make out.

“What was that, darling?”

“You guys are gonna leave me behind, aren’t you?”

Prompto’s voice breaks towards the end of the question. Ignis frowns, pulling him in for a tight embrace. “Oh, Prompto…”

Ignis doesn’t  _ want  _ to leave Prompto. The selfish part of him wants to bring him along so he can look after him,  _ protect him,  _ but he knows he can’t have that. Noctis is his priority—he must protect his king, and if it means leaving the love of his life behind, then he’d have to do it.

But Ignis knows Prompto—his insecurities will eat him alive. It’s the very last thing he needs, for his friends to leave him when he needs them most.

“I don’t know,” Ignis says after several minutes of silence. “We don’t want to leave you behind, but…”

“I’d hold you guys back.”

“You wouldn’t be safe,” Ignis corrects. He tucks Prompto’s head under his chin, gently rubbing his back. “Prompto, if the situation were different—”

“Please don’t leave me behind,” Prompto says. He pulls back, lifting his head up. His unseeing eye seems to lock gaze with Ignis’ forest-green. “I know I can’t aim a gun now, but maybe there’s something else I can do.”

“Prompto—”

“Ignis,  _ please.”  _ Prompto sounds determined, like he’s been thinking about this for a while.

Ignis should refuse. He should take Gladio’s advice and leave him with Weskham until they return, where he’ll be safe.

Instead, he says, “I’ll speak with Noct about it the first chance I get.”

* * *

 

Predictably, Noctis refuses to leave Prompto behind. Gladio opposes the idea, demands that Noctis reconsider, but in the end, Prompto is permitted to come along.

They remain in Altissia for another day to rest. Gladio purchases a machete for Prompto at a weapons shop the night before they leave.

“You gotta protect yourself somehow,” Gladio says as he hands it to him. Though he’s not too fond of the idea of letting Prompto come along, there’s a softness in his tone that he’s just not able to hide.

Noctis and Gladio are at each other’s throats, making the train ride unbearably tense. Eventually, Ignis leaves, taking Prompto with him to their compartment.

“Hey, Iggy?”

“Yes, Prompto?”

“Um… when we get the chance, would you be willing to train me?”

“Of course,” Ignis says without hesitation. “But you need to take it slow. Learning to fight without your sight is going to take time.”

For the first time in days, Prompto smiles.

* * *

 

They stop in Cartanica to visit the royal tomb.

It takes them hours just to get into the swamp. Noctis and Gladio continue their arguing along the way, completely ignoring Prompto and Ignis’ attempts at keeping the peace. Eventually, they give up, remaining a safe distance behind the two. By the time they find their way into the swamp, they need to set up camp.

Camp is tense—Noctis and Gladio refuse to speak to each other, instead opting to sit on opposite sides of the haven. They lack ingredients for a proper meal, leaving canned food as their only option. For once, Ignis makes an exception to his ‘no food in the tent’ rule and joins Prompto, deciding he had enough of their arguing.

“I apologize, but it seems I’ve used up all our ingredients,” he says, sitting down beside Prompto. He hands the can to him, then pushes the spoon into his free hand. “Unfortunately, all we had was canned beans.”

“It’s better than nothing,” Prompto says, making an attempt to sound optimistic. He scoops out a spoonful of beans, shoving them into his mouth with little trouble.

They eat in silence, trying not to focus on the screaming match going on outside the tent. Eventually, it becomes too much for either of them to bear—Prompto stands abruptly, not even bothering to grab his cane as he storms out of the tent. Ignis follows him out, deciding that enough was enough.

“Shut the hell up, both of you!”

Gladio and Noctis fall silent, far too surprised that Prompto had raised his voice to argue. The three of them look to the ex-gunslinger in anticipation, waiting for the rest of whatever he has to say.

It seems Prompto loses his nerve, though, as he just sighs. “Please. Just… quit it for tonight, okay?”

Ignis sees shame flash across Noctis and Gladio’s faces before going blank. They don’t continue their arguing—Ignis considers it a small victory and gently takes Prompto’s hand.

“I believe we’ll turn in for the night,” Ignis says. “I suggest the two of you sleep on opposite sides of the tent tonight.”

Ignis doesn’t wait for a reply—he just guides Prompto into the tent and helps him change into his sleep clothes.

* * *

 

They encounter a malboro nest the next day.

It should’ve been easy to dispatch them—a handful of fireflasks would’ve taken them out in no time, but they only had one on hand. Worse yet, the malboros are scattered, with half being out of range.

Thankfully, Prompto doesn’t wander too far away. He listens to Ignis’ directions and even manages to chop one of the baby malboros in half without hurting himself or one of his comrades. 

Then, Prompto gets an idea.

“Ignis, are they all in the same general direction?”

“Yes, but they’re still too far apart to take out with a single fire spell,” Ignis yells over the commotion.

“Where are they?”

“Three o’clock.”

“Are Noct and Gladio out of the way?”

“Yes, but what exactly are you—”

Prompto summons one of his machines and aims in the direction of the malboros. He fires, sucking all the beasts into a single place.

Then, Ignis understands. He summons the flask and throws it into the mass of malboros, burning them to a crisp.

“Are they dead?” Prompto asks.

“Indeed,” Ignis says, “thanks to your quick thinking.”

“Saved our asses,” Gladio adds, giving Prompto a rough pat on the back.

Prompto smiles sheepishly. Things feel normal for a few precious seconds, but the moment is ruined when Gladio opens his mouth.

“What, no royal commendation from His Majesty?”

Noctis gives Gladio a glare. “None for you, at least.”

They make quick work of collecting the Katana of the Warrior. As they leave the tomb, the tension starts to rise. Ignis opens his mouth to say something, but Prompto beats him to it.

“Mind if we stop a sec?” Prompto asks.

“Is everything okay?” Gladio eyes Prompto carefully, scanning for any visible injuries.

Prompto looks uncertain for a moment, like he might backpedal. In the end, he decides to push on. “Y’know what? No. All this bickering and shit is getting old.”

Noctis and Gladio both look down in shame.

“I think we’ve established that my sight’s probably not coming back. But… I want to stay with you guys. I want to keep fighting.”

Gladio sighs. “Hell no. War is a matter of life and death, Prompto.”

“We will be there, Gladio,” Ignis says.

“Dammit, Ignis, it’s not about us looking out for him!”

“This should be his decision to make, Gladiolus.”

“There’s more to it than just what he wants.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Prompto steps towards Gladio’s general direction. “I won’t ask you to slow down, alright? If I can’t keep up, I’ll step aside.”

Gladio huffed, turning towards Noctis. “What says ‘His Majesty?’”

Noctis doesn’t say anything. After a few beats of silence, Ignis lets out a sigh.

“Noct,” Ignis says, his tone gentle, “you are king. One cannot lead by standing still. A king pushes onward always, accepting the consequences and never looking back.” He turns to Gladio, giving him a pleading look. “Gladio, Noct will take his rightful place, but only once he’s ready.”

Gladio seems satisfied with the answer, as he relents. “Have it your way. We’re still taking a big risk.” He turns to Noctis, though his expression has softened. “We better all be ready.”

For the first time since leaving Altissia, the tension is gone.

* * *

 

The following day, the Niflheim forces attack the train.

It doesn’t take Ignis long to find the reason why—Ardyn had boarded the train sometime between Altissia and Cartanica. He pursues the chancellor, his blood boiling.

“You know,” Ardyn says casually, “I had planned this for your dear Prompto, but I suppose you’ll do just as well.”

Before Ignis can question Ardyn’s motives, he’s pushed off the train by Noctis.

The fall doesn’t kill him, though it does knock him out. When he comes to, he’s strapped to a device in a cold, dark cell.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

Ardyn enters the cell, offering a smile that made the hair on the back of Ignis’ neck stand on end.

“Your friends are on their way as we speak,” Ardyn says, approaching Ignis. “It will be some time until they join us, so I thought I’d come keep you company, at least for a little while.”

“I’d sooner enjoy the company of an MT,” Ignis spits.

The smile on Ardyn’s face turns dark. “So I’ve noticed. You’ve been traveling with one for quite some time.”

Ignis narrows his eyes. Then, he remembers the words Ardyn spoke before Noctis pushed him off the train. 

_ “You know, I had planned this for your dear Prompto, but I suppose you’ll do just as well.” _

Prompto. Did he mean Prompto was…

“He doesn’t know, of course,” Ardyn says. “I would’ve loved to see the look on his face when he discovered he wasn’t even human, but I suppose I can trust you to pass on that information, hmmm?”

He thinks Ardyn is explaining the origin of the magitek infantry, but Ignis can only focus on Prompto. Cheerful, sweet, loving Prompto,  _ an MT? _

Ignis hears bits and pieces of Ardyn’s explanation that stick out:  _ barcode… wrist… production date… daemonification…  _

“A pity, isn’t it? Innocent souls fated to suffer… at the hands of a foreign king. Well, not so  _ empty _ after all, are they?”

Ardyn exits the cell, leaving Ignis to his thoughts.

* * *

 

Ignis spends his time sleeping, for the most part.

He’s not sure how long it’s been since he was pushed off the train— _ days, perhaps _ —but he does know it’s been quite some time. His stomach growls from lack of food, his shoulders ache from the restraints, and he’s beginning to feel the effects of isolation weigh heavily upon him.

When Ignis isn’t sleeping, he’s thinking of Prompto—his thoughts turn to the wristband that was always present and wonders if he spent nights on end wondering what it meant. He wonders if he should tell him.

“Ignis!”

The voice cuts through the silence like one of his daggers. Ignis lifts his head, finding Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio running towards his cell. He registers the restraints coming off, then Gladio’s arms breaking his fall.

“Easy,” Gladio says, “we’ve got you.”

Ignis thinks he must’ve passed out, because the next thing he knows, he’s in a bed in a room he doesn’t recognize. Prompto’s asleep at his side, his arms tightly wrapped around Ignis’ body.

Ignis sits up carefully, not wanting to wake Prompto. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes, and when he pulls his hands away, he sees Gladio’s hand holding his glasses out to him.

“My thanks,” Ignis says as he slips on his glasses.

Gladio grunts in response. He grabs a something off the nightstand—Cup Noodles—and hands it to Ignis. “It’s probably been a while since you last ate, yeah?”

Ignis eats without complaint, using every ounce of self-control he has to not scarf it all down. When the cup is empty, Gladio offers him a bottle of water, when he accepts gratefully.

After he finishes eating, Noctis is at his side, offering tearful apologies. Ignis lets himself be pulled into a tight hug and offers a few comforting words of his own before Gladio gently pulls Noctis away.

Prompto wakes shortly thereafter. He throws his arms around Ignis, burying his face into the man’s neck.

“I thought I lost you,” Prompto whispers, sounding close to tears.

Ignis kisses Prompto’s temple gently, wrapping his arms around him. As he holds Prompto, his thoughts turned to what Ardyn had revealed.

_ A pity, isn’t it? Innocent souls fated to suffer… _

Prompto wasn’t one of them. He may have been created to  _ become  _ an MT, but in Ignis’ eyes, he was  _ Prompto _ —loving boyfriend, crownsguard, and above all else, a  _ Lucian. _


	6. In My Arms (Where You Belong)

Just as the chaos on the train dies down, Ignis hears his cell phone ring.

“What’s wrong?” Ignis asks.

_ “Ignis, you’ve gotta stop this thing!” _ Noctis says, sounding panicked,  _ “Prompto fell off the train.” _

Ignis nearly drops the phone. Noctis is still talking, but his focus remains on those five little words:  _ Prompto fell off the train.  _ He hears something about  _ Ardyn  _ and  _ magic,  _ but everything else just doesn’t register.

Ignis wants to scream at Noctis—he wants to know how the  _ bloody hell  _ that happened, but he knows yelling won’t help at all. They need to—

_ “Ignis! Ignis, dammit, we need to stop the train! We need to find him!” _

“Stay calm, Noct,” Ignis says, forcing himself to keep it together. “I… as concerned as I am about Prompto, we cannot stop this train.”

_ “Ignis, he’s your fucking boyfri—” _

“Stopping this train will endanger the lives of the civilians onboard,” Ignis says, his tone a bit too sharp. He takes in a deep breath and exhales slowly before speaking again, his words softer. “We will drop the passengers off in Tenebrae. We should be arriving shortly.”

_ “But what about Prompto?” _

Ignis squeezes his eyes shut.  _ I don’t know. I don’t know if he even survived.  _ “Given the chancellor’s involvement, it’s probable he’s no longer where we left him. In any case, he may try to contact us. Let us wait and hope for now.”

He wants to  _ cry _ —he couldn’t lose Prompto. Not  _ now,  _ when everything’s falling apart before their eyes.

“Can you make your way here?” Ignis asks, fighting to keep his voice steady. “Gladio is with me.”

_ “Are the two of you okay at least?” _

_ No.  _ “Yes.”

_ “Okay, on my way. I’ll be there as soon as I take care of these stowaways.” _

As soon as Noctis hangs up, Ignis lets out a shaky breath. He feels someone—Gladio, judging by the size of the hands—guide him towards the nearest seat, easing him down.

“Wanna fill me in?” Gladio asks.

“Prompto has been pushed off the train,” Ignis says.  _ Keep it together. _

“What? Dammit, how’d that happen?”

“Ardyn.”

“How the hell did he get on the train without us noticing?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Ignis let out a shaky sigh, bowing his head. He tries to get a hold of himself, but it’s too late—tears spill from his good eye before he can stop himself.

“Don’t lose hope just yet,” Gladio says, resting a hand on Ignis’ shoulder. “If Ardyn’s involved, there’s a good chance Prompto’s still alive.”

Ignis fought to compose himself. “Yes… of course.”

* * *

 

Nothing feels real to Ignis for the next few days.

His thoughts keep going back to Prompto—he thinks about how  _ scared  _ he must feel, how distraught he must be about his  _ best friend pushing him off a moving train.  _ He’s without any means of communicating with them, he lacks the supplies to survive out in the wilderness, and worse yet, he’s sure Prompto’s landed in a considerably colder climate.

When they discover that Ardyn did in fact have him, Ignis feels like he’s having a nightmare. He’s angry and scared and tired and dammit, all he wants is for Prompto back in his arms where he belongs.

Ignis is forced to push his thoughts of Prompto to the background when he and Gladio are separated from Noctis. After  _ hours  _ of wandering around Zegnautus Keep, they’re reunited with him. As luck would have it, their reunion takes place a few meters away from Prompto’s cell. 

They make quick work of breaking him free of his restraints and usher him to the nearest dormitory for some much-needed rest. With Ignis’ guidance, Noctis tends to Prompto’s injuries and Gladio hands out Cup Noodles. For a while, it doesn’t feel like the world is coming to an end.

“It’s good to have you back,” Ignis says softly, long after Noctis and Gladio have fallen asleep. “I missed you dearly… we all did.”

“It’s good to be back,” Prompto murmurs, voice heavy with sleep.

Ignis smiles for the first time in days. He stays awake a little longer, listening to Prompto’s soft snores before joining him in sleep.


	7. In and Out of Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm like ten minutes late and I literally wrote this in about twenty minutes because I get distracted easily sghsfjksd.

Lately, it felt like things were spiraling out of Ignis’ control.

He knew things wouldn’t be that simple outside the wall—given Niflheim’s influence over the land that used to belong to Lucis, he expected that things would be difficult. What he  _ didn’t  _ expect, though, was for Insomnia to fall a mere few days after they left for Noctis’ wedding.

Of all the things he could’ve accounted for,  _ that  _ hadn’t been one of them. Worse yet, he had no backup plan—he didn’t know what to do and it scared the hell out of him.

Everyone else was coping in their own way. Gladio took on hunts by himself to blow off steam. Noctis took naps and fished in places where he could be alone with his thoughts. Prompto made attempts to help everyone else through their problems so he wouldn’t have to think about his own.

And Ignis?

Ignis focused on the things he could control.

Ignis lets out a groan when he feels Prompto’s tongue swirl over his slit, tangling his fingers into his hair. He pulls lightly, earning a soft moan of pleasure from the blond.

“Stop teasing,” Ignis growls.

Prompto seems to be in a rather adventurous mood, as he gives Ignis an innocent look. He presses a soft kiss to his tip before taking it into his mouth, humming softly.

“Prompto,” Ignis warns.

“Mm?”

Ignis’ grip on Prompto’s hair tightens. It’s the only warning Prompto receives before Ignis pushes his cock into his mouth, moaning when he feels the tip hit the back of his throat. The muffled sound of surprise that escapes him sends jolts of pleasure down Ignis’ spine, pushing him further.

“I think you need to remember that your mouth belongs to  _ me,  _ pet,” Ignis hisses, thrusting into Prompto’s mouth. “Your body is mine to use as I please.”

He fucks Prompto’s mouth hard, only pulling out to allow him to breathe here and there. “You’ll  _ breathe  _ only when I let you. Do you understand?”

Prompto nods, earning a slap to the face.  _ “Say it.” _

“Y-y-yes, master,” Prompto pants.

“That’s what I thought.” Ignis pushes his cock back down Prompto’s mouth. He fucks Prompto’s face until he cums down his throat, pulling his hair. He pulls out, smirking when his submissive swallows without complaint.

Ignis allows Prompto a moment to breathe before pushing him down onto the bed, pinning his arms above his head. His free hand moves to Prompto’s ass, pulling out the butt plug and throwing it aside. He makes quick work of slicking himself up before pushing into him, burying his cock deep into Prompto’s tight heat.

“You’re  _ mine,”  _ Ignis hisses between thrusts. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, m-master,” Prompto gasps. He cries out when Ignis slams into his prostate, shaking with pleasure. “Oh,  _ fuck,  _ I’m gonna cum!”

Ignis slaps Prompto, growling. “You’ll cum when you’re given permission.”

“Master, please!”

“You’ll wait.” 

Ignis thrusts harder, pounding into Prompto’s prostate until he’s a sobbing, begging mess. His free hand moves to wrap around his submissive’s cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts.

“Go on then,” Ignis spits. “Show me what a filthy little whore you are.”

Prompto cums with a cry, coating Ignis’ hand in white. Ignis continues to slam into his prostate until he climaxes, biting down onto his shoulder possessively.

It takes a moment for Ignis to come down from the high. He pulls out slowly before he sits down on the bed, pulling Prompto into his arms.

“You were perfect, dove,” Ignis coos, pressing a soft kiss to Prompto’s temple. “Such a good submissive.”

Prompto smiles sleepily, burying his face into Ignis’ neck. He lets out a content sound when he feels Ignis’ fingers stroke his hair, using the last of his energy to wrap his arms around him.

“Y’feel better?” Prompto asks when he finds his voice.

“I do,” Ignis says. He reaches for one of the blankets he set aside before the scene, wrapping it around Prompto gently. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Mmh… good.” Prompto nuzzles Ignis’ neck. “Nap with me?”

“Of course,” Ignis whispers. “But first, let’s get you cleaned up.”


End file.
